All That Matters
by ShakespeareIsMyMuse
Summary: Steve McGarrett is known for pushing the envelope; to get his way by any means necessary. It's not unusual for Danny Williams to be by his side—vocally objecting and physically assisting. However, when Steve goes as far as deceiving the Navy to get what he wants—and they find out— what happens to him and to Danny?


ShakespeareIsMyMuse

**DISCLAIMER: I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do so solemnly swear that I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of its affiliates, which includes: any familiar story plots, creation of original characters belonging to the show, cast and crew. Rights, property and ownership belong rightfully and wholly to CBS and its Original Creator: Leonard Freeman (1920-1974), also to reboot creators: Peter M. Lenkov, Alex Kurtzman, and Roberto Orci.**

**I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do however claim ownership of any unrecognizable characters and the formation of plot(s) that follows. Any invention or similarity of any character or plot line that is seen here after represented really or fictitiously, alive or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

*Exhales* I hope that about covers everything. *Cracks Neck* Now, on with the story.

**Enjoy.**

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**Summary:**

Steve McGarrett is known for pushing the envelope; to get his way by any means necessary. It's not unusual for Danny Williams to be by his side—vocally objecting and physically assisting. However, when Steve goes as far as deceiving the Navy to get what he wants—and they find out— what happens to him and to Danny?

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**All That Matters**

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"The sun goes down, the stars come out  
And all that counts is here and now  
My universe will never be the same  
I'm glad you came"

The Wanted; 'Glad You Came'

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**United States ****Military Courthouse**

**Wiapio**

**May 31****st**** 2013; 9:41 A.M.**

Detective Danny Williams sat on a hard wooden bench in Hawaii's Military Courthouse as he waited for his partner, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett.

"Steve," Danny called seeing his partner's head mixed in between a couple of other military men. Thinking he was just trying to make his way past them, Danny walked closer to the crowd and called again, "Steve," Danny's pace slowed to a stop and surprise colored his face at what he saw.

Steve wasn't trying to make his way past anyone. Those two men—who were built brawn-wise to the same standard as Steve McGarrett—on either side of him, were there to make sure he _**didn't **_go anywhere. Danny took note of their uniforms; they were MP's and they were escorting his partner, who walked with his face blank, eyes focused ahead, hands clasped together and wrists cuffed in the front.

'_Well this can't be good,' _Danny thought to himself. "Steve?"

Though he had called the man's name three times at this point, Steve had yet to even glance in his direction. And Danny knew that he had to have heard him, because the two individuals walking not five feet behind the group had both turned to look in his direction.

Danny's eyes raked over their uniforms, the one on the left was a female Admiral, the one on the right, a General. Reaching their faces Danny saw the fortified gazes of the two; both were studying him intently. While the General's eyes never left Danny's face, the Admiral allowed her eyes to flick, briefly, towards the cuffed man— who had yet to acknowledge the fact that anyone had been speaking to him at all— before reverting back to the short blonde standing in the middle of the hall.

The looks of the two senior officers became more serious—their gazes grew harder, more suspicious—the longer he stared and for some reason Steve was pretending to not hear him; not to know who he was. But what he couldn't figure out was, why?

Then suddenly, from out of nowhere, a man in a dark grey suit answered, "I'm over here."

Startled, Danny's eyes broke contact with the two Navy officers and searched for the sound.

"There you are," the man in the dark grey suit said, cupping Danny's shoulder, "I've been looking for you everywhere. Come on, everyone is waiting."

Whatever was up, he didn't know, but he felt that by his actions alone, Steve had made it perfectly clear that he wanted Danny—for whatever reason— to stay away.

Careful to keep the confusion off of his face, Danny smiled like he knew the man standing in front of him and turned to walk with him. The man causally slid his arm around Danny's shoulder. The Detective said not a word; he just allowed it to hang there and stuffed his own hands into his pants pockets as they walked.

From the corner of his eye, Danny saw the looks of suspicion fade off of the two elder officers. The Admiral even shook her head at the General and they continued on, following the procession of his partner and the MP's down an opposite hall.

When the group was finally out of ear shot, Danny quietly hissed to the man at his side, "_Who the hell are you?"_

"Jonathan Stevens, Detective. I am Governor Denning's personal driver and he would like a word with you, sir."

"Do happen to know why my partner was just marched off by a couple of MP's… in handcuffs?"

"I am sorry, sir, I do not."

"Would the Governor?"

"I would imagine so. I was just told to answer to my old high school nickname; make certain that you didn't speak with the Commander or any other Navy personnel and bring you straight to Governor Denning."

"And, uh, _**how**_ did the Governor know I'd be here?"

"According to him, wherever one of you is the other is _never far_ behind. Governor Denning said, sir, and I quote, 'Where else would Williams be?'"

Danny silently nodded his head in agreement, Denning wasn't wrong. Then something else, albeit briefly because this could have been of less importance than the matter at hand, over took the detective's thoughts. "If your name is Jonathan, how is your nickname 'Steve'?"

Jonathan chuckled. "In my high school class collaboration there were exactly fifteen Jonathan's. There was one Jonathan James, two Jonathan Paul's and two Jonathan Thomas'. The remaining ten, according to them personally had some pretty embarrassing passed down family middle names that they refused to share, myself included. So they went by JJ, John-Paul, JP, John-Thomas, JT, Jonathan, John, Johnny, Jon-Jon, Jonah, Jack, Jax, Nathan and Nate respectively."

"Whoa," Danny said as he took in the wealth of information on the multiple breakdowns of one simple name.

Jonathan chuckled once more. "And since my last name was Stevens— and because I went to high school on Sesizimi Street and not Sesame Street and I did not want anyone to know that my middle name is Grover, decided that Steve sounded like a much better option."

"And how many other Steve's and Steven's were in your high school?"

"Aside from me? Just one and he pronounced it 'Stefán'."

When they came to a pair of glass doors at the end of the long hall, Jonathan removed his arm from Danny's shoulder. Pushing the door open, he stood back and waited for the blonde man to pass through.

As he stepped out into the warm Hawaiian air, Danny saw two black SUV's in tandem, with government plates, waiting to exit out into traffic. The sinking feeling in the pit of this stomach told him that Steve was in the back of one of them; but which one? He couldn't tell, due to the fact that all the windows were heavily tinted.

Only once the vehicles had disappeared out of view did Danny follow a waiting Jonathan who had simply stood still; neither urging him forward or showing any sign of annoyance for the hold up. When the two men rounded the corner of the building Danny saw— parked next to his onyx Camaro— was a cream colored Malibu and Sam Denning leaning against the back wheel well. He also recognized the short redhead as the Governor's assistant, Xiao. She was standing with her tablet erected on the trunk; speaking in low tones on her cell phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder— interchanging between typing on the keyboard and tapping and swiping a well-manicured finger across the tablet's touch screen.

"Detective Williams, I was beyond certain I would find you here today," Denning said as he walked towards the detective, hand outstretched.

"Yes, sir, I was informed," Danny replied, his eyes looking to Jonathan as he shook the Governor's hand. "But what I am more interested in is …?"

Denning quickly cut him off before Danny could finish speaking, "Detective Williams, you and I need to speak." And though he didn't actually say it, Danny could hear the word 'privately' at the end of his sentence. Jonathan placed the Malibu's keys into his boss' waiting palm. "May I give you a ride home?"

Catching his drift, Danny automatically handed the Camaro's keys to the very patient Jonathan who held the passenger door open for Xiao who nodded graciously as she slipped into the front seat. Danny joined the waiting Governor, who was adjusting the side-view mirrors.

"You are probably wondering why the Commander was escorted from the building in handcuffs, am I correct, Detective?" Denning asked as they pulled out into traffic.

"The thought had crossed my mind, yeah." Danny was trying very hard to be patient, but this whole covert ops thing was wearing thin his last nerve.

"I hear your frustration, Detective," Denning nodded politely letting the irritation slide. "It appears that Commander McGarrett knowingly disregarded proper procedure."

Danny was about to ask _'So what else is new?'_, but thought better of it considering the person he was having said conversation with was his boss; well his boss' boss, but still, Denning was his boss too. When Denning appeared to read his mind and correct himself, "Military procedure to be exact. Commander McGarrett knowingly, _**blatantly**_, disregarded proper Military procedure."

"I don't follow, his mission was special request-granted," Danny said out loud before he thought to himself, _'partially—this time', _"how is that a blatant disregard for proper Military procedure?"

"That part wasn't. However, it has come to the attention of the Navy, that not only was Commander McGarrett about forty miles off course from where he originally stated he was going to be, but he also interfered with another nation's Military territory without any proper notification or clearance. _**And**_ he allowed 'unauthorized_—civilian –_personnel_'_ to accompany him.

Danny felt the blood drain from his face as he remembered Steve's words when the plane had been coming in for a landing…

**Three Weeks Earlier:**

"Uh, listen buddy, I appreciate you coming with me, but there is something I need to tell you," Steve whispered as they checked and readied their gear.

"I figured as much. You waited until now, because you thought if you told me beforehand I'd try and talk you out of it?" Danny wondered and Steve went to speak but was quickly cut off before he could say more, "Which we both know would have been pointless because you would have just gone ahead and done it anyway. You always do. I'm tired, Steve," Danny told him. Steve tried to speak again, but Danny cut him off once more. "I'm tired of you running off in the middle of the night, leaving behind letters that raise more questions than answers. I'm tired of you putting your life in pointless danger just because you're either incapable of asking for help, or because you think it makes you look weak. It doesn't and you're not. You want to brag about being a team leader? You're a good one, you are, but, well, babe, there is no _'I'_ or _'You'_ in team. And you can't even argue that there is a _'Me'_ because it's spelt backwards and blocked by an _'A'_," Danny said, and then winked.

Steve couldn't help it, he smiled at that one.

"I'm here and I've told you before and I will tell you again, you know I've got your back, _**always**_. So, buddy, whatever it is, I'm not going to get mad at you and I'm not even going to complain. Just tell me whatever it is and I'm going to do it."

Taking a deep breath, a grateful smile crossed his lips. "To get what we came for, we need access to an area that was not covered in my request," Steve informed before dropping his voice ever lower, "in addition to one other small detail," and then raising it again, "because it is restricted to my clearance level and even more so to yours. So we need to sneak across a very heavily patrolled border, in and out and not get caught."

The detective absorbed the information with a neutral face while the SEAL waited for the blowback; but true to his word, Danny nodded and calmly said, "On your six, babe."

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Perhaps if the events of the night had been less pressing Danny would have clued in earlier to the fact that Steve was telling him that he was _'the one other small detail'_ that wasn't covered in his request. In all honesty, Danny hadn't even been thinking in that general direction. The only matter than concerned him was making certain that Steve didn't end up chained to a ceiling again or battered, bloodied, bruised and bound in the back of another cargo truck or a myriad of other predicaments that could have gotten a lone missioner captured or killed.

Noticing the fact that Danny was doing a marvelous impression of a corpse, Denning broke the silence that had settled over the pair, "Detective, are you alright?"

Silence.

"Detective?"

No answer.

"Detective Williams?"

Still no answer.

Detaching a hand from the steering wheel, Denning placed it on the nonresponsive man's shoulder and gently shook, "Williams?", almost wondering if the man was suffering from some sort of medical emergency, he tried once more, "Williams?" before finally, nearly shouting, "Danny!"

And though the blonde snapped his head in the Governor's direction he said nothing. Danny's face was still ashen; his eyes still kind of wide and his mouth, slightly agape. He saw Denning's mouth move again, but he couldn't hear what he had said to him.

Danny blinked as he uttered, "Huh?"

"I said are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah," was the only thing Danny said as he leaned his elbow against the window frame and held his chin in hand. He mentally debated telling Denning the truth; that it had been him there with Steve that night— that he was the 'unauthorized civilian', when something else floated up into his mind…

**Two Days Earlier:**

Seeing the young Navy runner enter and— then no less than ten seconds later— exit Steve's office had Danny getting up from his own desk and crossing the hall. Through the glass of the door, he saw his partner sitting in his high backed office chair reading the paper that had been enclosed inside the very official looking envelope, which was now tucked between his fingers.

Steve looked up as his office door opened, his face placid; his eyes studying. Danny couldn't understand why the look on his partner's face made him feel uneasy, but it did.

"What's up?" he wondered, nodding to the folded up piece of paper as he sat down in one of the U-shaped arm chairs in front of the dark stained Maple wood desk.

Steve was silent for a second before answering, "N…nothing," which came out with very slight—but to Danny's keen eye, noticeable— hesitation.

Danny lifted his head and positioned it in such a way to give his partner a pointed look. The staring contest that consisted of four blue eyeballs was pointless, as Steve knew Danny all to well—a dog with a bone. Knowing the detective would find a way to x-ray every last thread of whatever explanation came out of his mouth; with a resigned sigh, handed over the proof of the written document instead.

Opening the paper, Danny noticed it didn't give much in the way of explanation; it was more of a short stated summons. The only thing it consisted of, besides a very fancy and highly embossed letterhead were the words: _'Lieutenant Commander Steven Jonathan McGarrett is requested to appear in The Enquiry Room __at the United States __Military Courthouse at Wiapio on 31 May 2013; 0900.'_ Confused, Danny asked, "Why?"

"S.O.P; debrief, that's all."

Well, Danny was only as well versed in naval proceedings as Steve had taught him over the years and standard operating procedure sounded very plausible. But there was that look, the one that had made him feel uneasy when he walked in; though it had faded to the background, the detective could still see it masked below.

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"Williams, you look far from alright," Denning told him, but Danny was gone away in his head again; another conversation flooding his mind…

**United States ****Military Courthouse**

**Wiapio**

**May 31****st**** 2013; 8:50 A.M.**

Danny walked into the Courthouse at exactly 8:50 in the morning. He was about to ask one of the milling personnel which direction The Enquiry Room was, when he felt someone catch his elbow and begin herding him out of sight. Looking over he saw Steve in full dress uniform, cap tucked neatly under left arm; his voice a low whisper, "Danny what are you doing here?"

Matching his voice to Steve's decibel, "I stopped by your house this morning to pick you up, your truck was in the driveway; but you were already gone, so I came here."

A look of gratitude commingle with something else…fear, maybe (?) crossed the Navy man's face. "I, uh …it was seen to that I arrived on time and that work wasn't going to interfere with my meeting."

It was then he realized that his detective's radar had been right; his partner had been trying to sugar coat something that deserved worry. And that feeling he'd had a couple of days earlier had returned as well—full force— and the while the blonde did an excellent job of holding it together on the outside, inside he was nearly all but panicking at this point.

"Steven, what is going on?"

"I told you, it's nothing; just a debrief. S.O.P., remember?"

"I know. That's why I'm here," Danny nodded, and then wondered, "I am supposed to be here right?"

"No," the SEAL shook his head.

"Oh."

"I mean, you can be here," Steve corrected himself, "just not in there," he pointed to the large doors down the hall, "Military personnel only. But if you don't mind, I'll appreciate a ride back to HQ."

Though the two men had had some friction between them in the beginning, they had learned from one another over the years; Danny teaching Steve how to be a good cop and Steve teaching Danny what it meant to be a proper solider. They had become so comfortable with incorporating their skills into their daily lives and work routine that—every so often –Danny would forget there were just some aspects of his partner's life he was never going to fully be a part of. Nevertheless, the words had stung and he tried –successfully—not let that fact show. "Okay, sure."

Silence.

The unusually awkward quiet that fell had Danny wondering once more, "_Are you sure_ _everything is alright_?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Really?" came the skeptical tone.

The SEAL nodded.

"So why did you look like you were about to jump out of your skin when you saw me?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve gaped. "I was just surprised to see you here, that's all," he said by way of brushing off the conversation completely, before dropping off in thought for a second and then changing lanes to, "You're a great person to have in my corner, Danno. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that fact…and our friendship, it means a lot." He finished with— what a less adept person would consider –a very convincing smile.

Danny studied the man in front of him and to anyone else looking he would have seemed like the stone-faced, live action G.I. Joe doll that conducted himself with such aplomb in everyday life. Unfortunately for Steve, Danny knew him all too well and was more than willing to call him on it. "Come on, Steve, what is it you're not telling me?"

"Nothing," came the famous repeated line.

"So why are you so nervous?"

Steve blinked in surprise, "…I look nervous?"

"Not to someone who doesn't know you, but I do, so…?"

Danny noted the relief that rapidly flashed across his friend's eyes as he once again repeated, "I already told you, nothing."

Danny rolled his eyes; the broken record parody was getting old—when suddenly it hit him, "Does this have anything to do with…?"

"Listen, don't worry…about anything," Steve cut him off abruptly, while looking around their surroundings, "I'm going to take care of this, okay?"

"Take care of what?" The confused look in the man's eyes quickly turned to a begging one as he clasped him on the shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, "Steve, please tell me, what's going on?"

But the only thing the SEAL did was glance down at his watch before moving the detective further down the marble hallway towards a long wooden bench. "Just sit down, right here on this bench," Steve told him as he gently applied pressure to the shorter man's shoulders, who –grudgingly—complied, "and _**don't talk to anybody**_, okay? _Just wait_ for me, _right here_. I'll be right back. This shouldn't take any longer than twenty, maybe thirty minutes, tops. Alright?"

"I wait here and when you come back, you tell me what the hell's going on in that goofy head of yours?"

"Yes," he nodded, "_Everything, I promise_."

"Okay," Danny agreed. He blew out an annoyed breath as he settled himself against the bench and watched Steve walked towards the large wooden doors at the far end of the hall. The runner that had delivered the envelope two days earlier appeared from an eastern hallway. He saluted the Lieutenant and opened one of the large doors for him. Steve returned the salute, gave a curt nod and entered the room; the runner followed and closed the door behind him.

Danny glanced down at his own watch: 8:59.

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"Commander McGarrett acknowledged that he was well aware of and chose to ignore the fact that his actions were not only against protocol, but, resulted in immediate discharge. When asked why, he claimed it was personal."

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite the fact that Danny knew he shouldered blame for Steve current actions, there was still one other name that deserved to share. "Damn you, Doris," he mumbled.

"What was that, Detective?" Denning wondered of the barely inaudible sound that had echoed in the car.

Clearly miserable and upset, the he pounded fiercely on his own thigh before saying, "_Nothing_," in a tone that suggested Danny was pissed off at himself.

It was the truth though, all of the secrets and the lies that Doris McGarrett had kept hidden for so many years was the reason that Steve had jumped through hoops to create this falsehood of a mission. To get close enough to where he could easily secure access to a wealth of information that he hoped would give him answers to all of the questions she always seemed to conveniently disappear just in time to not answer.

It was her. It was Doris. She caused all of this. It was her 'supposed death' had thrown Steve onto a path that had led to a career in the US Navy and her 'recent resurrection' had now helped remove him from it. And Danny…well he had bitched and moaned; every single time he and their friends had to drag Steve back, practically (almost literally) from the edge of hell—before he fell over to where they couldn't reach him— to the point where the self-sufficient lone wolf finally succumbed to joining a pack, in which he allowed himself to bear the inner most depths of his soul to just to endure existence.

Danny had voiced—loudly— on many occasions, that Steve didn't have to nor would he allow him to do this all alone. And now he was listening to Denning explain why his best friend's naval career was over...

"The court offered a simple discharge if he would give them the name of the civilian."

Danny felt his eyes shut as he blew out a soft, breathy sound of exasperation. "Let me guess," he replied woodenly, "he refused."

Denning nodded. "He did. McGarrett was then asked if a ninety day hold would change his mind."

…and apparently why he wasn't going to be seeing him for a while.

The blonde's normally slicked back do ruffled a bit as his head slumped back against the seat's headrest; his tone rigid— impassive— as he answered knowingly, "and he said no."

The Governor was impressed—though he didn't know why— it was just about common knowhow as to how well Williams and McGarrett knew each other, even from so far away. Nodding once more as he spoke, "For what he, I am sure, considered far more significant reasons than what was thought to be an empty threat. A scare tactic, if you will; considering it is a practice that is not commonly utilized."

The detective's voice dripped with guilt. "Everything comes with a price. Insubordination on such a grand scale is rarely, if ever, tolerated. What's his?"

"At the end of those ninety days the Commander will receive a _**dishonorable **_discharge from the United States Navy."

Danny sighed heavily and hung his head in his hand. Long seconds ticked by in silence before he spoke again. "So instead of telling them what they wanted to know, he chose to bury a nearly spotless service record with the United States Navy?"

"It would appear so."

"_**I can't**_ let this happen," Danny declared as he turned himself in the front seat to face his boss. The move alone would have struck anyone as someone seeking immediate absolution. And why not? The remorse was evident enough. "The Navy is Steve's whole life. He's proud of that fact. _**I made him **__take me with him_, _okay?_ _**I made him**_ _do it and__** I went **__of__** my own **__free will_. _**It was my choice**_ _to go_. Steve and the government and the military weren't responsible for whatever choice _**I made**_. _**It was me**_ and as an American citizen, _**I**_ have that right._** I **_have the right **to be stupid** with _**my own life**_; to put it in danger and even take it if I should choose. _**Let me talk to them**_. Take _**me**_ to them, _**I'll**_ explain, I'll explain everything. I'll tell them that every time the idiot goes off by himself, it never ends well. Because he's done such a good job in the past that people now want to kill him in the present. That, at least this time he didn't crash land in the middle of the jungle or wind up bound in the back of a truck or… or worse. He came back alive. One of the Navy's best men came home alive. He needed back up. _**I'm**__ his partner_, _that's __**my**__ job_ to provide it." Danny rambled on, momentarily forgetting the fact that the Governor didn't know about their dust up with the CIA or the rescue op in North Korea …

"My ears didn't hear a word you just said, Detective."

…or did he?

Danny looked confused. "What?"

"Look, Danny," Denning's voice softened as he tried for a more delicate approach in the hopes of getting through to the man, "regardless of what you say, Command… Steve is still going to be discharged from the Navy. He was told that he would be discharged as a direct result of his actions. As a member of service to the United States of America, he was trained to act in regard to a certain set of rules and when he chose to ignore that fact…," Denning let the sentence hang in the air for a second. Danny ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he thought about what his boss was telling him.

"…that falls under the category of poor conduct by a service member. He was given an opportunity to name the civilian that accompanied him in exchange for being simply discharged from service. The only difference being, the Navy is looking to charge the civilian in question— i.e. the unauthorized, non-military personnel—with _**multiple**_ counts of Grand Larceny for unauthorized, illegal and improperly trained use and acquisition of government/military property. And I know I don't have to tell you that _**just one**_ Grand Larceny charge carries _**up to a twelve year prison sentence**_, do I?"

Danny sighed again, ignoring the governor's question. "I am an American citizen and a taxpayer, it is essentially my property. I'm also trained to handle a gun."

"One could argue that very point about the badge you wear and the office you work in. And, again, my ears have heard nothing."

Danny sighed heavily once more. Denning put the car in park and turned to face the irritated man in the seat next to him. "Don't beat yourself up Danny; Steve knew it was against protocol to have unauthorized personnel with him. He also knew what staying quiet meant. He made his bed and knowing McGarrett, he_** will**_ lie in it." Placing a hand on the depressed man's shoulder and lowering his voice, "And if it makes you feel any better, I don't think it's because he didn't think _**you**_ _couldn't hack_ prison. I think the reasons are a little more special than that." Denning pointed to the front of The Palace. Danny followed his line of sight where he saw Chin and Kono sitting on the front walk with Grace, a jumbo box of chalk, a forgotten game of jacks and a poorly stacked deck of playing cards.

Grace had bounced to her feet when she saw the onyx Camaro pull into the parking lot. Chin and Kono both exchanged a look when they saw Denning's driver and assistant get out of the front seats. Grace's eyes searched until she finally saw her father in the front seat of the cream sedan and waved.

Danny smiled and waved back, only a second later to have to wag his finger and hold up his hand in a stopping motion to prevent her from running over to him. Kono met his eyes with a confused look, but held her arms out for the little girl and Grace dropped back into her lap.

Ever the detective, Chin watched the sedan from the corner of his eye as he sat himself up on his knees and reached out for a different color of chalk to distract the eleven year old with.

Danny rubbed his mouth as he watched his daughter and colleagues continue to color up municipal property. Thinking of all the things his partner had promised his daughter a summer of: barbeques, camping, clam bakes on the beach, cliff jumping (which Danny wasn't too keen on), laser tag, out-rigging, paint ball, parasailing, scuba diving, towing surfing (Danny was not a fan), water balloon fights, zip-lining (again, not a huge fan). Danny was only a partial expert in about four of those categories. "So he gets ninety days in the pen and I get an entire summer with my daughter?"

Denning gently rubbed the man's shoulder again, "I guess he thought it sounded like a fair exchange. I am almost positive that in the last twenty plus years McGarrett has spent much more time, in much worse conditions than an American military custodial."

"Is that supposed make me feel better?"

This time, Denning ignored the question and instead said, "Steve will be fine and there is an upside."

Danny stared at the man incredulously. In one fell swoop he and Steve had just destroyed a part of Steve's life that he had spent the last twenty years building; where could Denning possibly find a silver lining? Though his tone probably came out a little bit snarky, he still asked, in typical Danny fashion, "Would you like to share?"

However, if Denning had noticed, he said nothing. Danny guessed he had gotten a free pass due to the turn out of the day's events. _'Ha,ha,'_ Danny laughed to himself sarcastically, _'free pass. My buddy gets locked up for finally listening to me and I'm the one getting all the breaks.'_

"I'd be happy to. I no longer have to worry about the head of my task force being summoned back by his past. Five-0 has made a huge impact on this island. The four of you have really cleaned house with the arms dealings and drug trafficking. You've managed to get a harness on the gangs and the gang wars, cut down dramatically on the human trafficking rings, the big business money laundering, and organized crime. In addition to having counteracted some— what would have been—very serious terrorism plots. Not to mention stopping the spread of a would be epidemic of a long since thought gone infectious disease that could have easily wiped out nearly half of America's population. It is those efforts tried and won, which have made the islands safer and Hawaii's residents—the law abiding ones— much happier. _**Whatever**_ McGarrett did in regards to that military equipment and _**whoever**_ it was that was with him," Denning looked the Detective in the eye and smiled, "is absolutely none of my business because the way I see it, none of _my rules_ were violated. I also seem to remember someone once telling me, that _sometimes_ people get put into positions where lives are on the line and those people have to make split second decisions to save a life or, even, many and _sometimes_ even _the finest_ line can get so blurry to the point where it can be a little hard to see."

Danny nodded. He remembered that. He remembered it all.

"Now, from what I _**can**_ see, a very clever and capable team has been assembled; one that has functioned at full capacity, even being a man down before—that being said and based on the results I have seen, I have come to trust McGarrett's judgment and, by extension, the judgments of the team he has assembled. So I will also trust that as Five-0's second in command, as appointed by Commander McGarrett, that you, Detective Williams, have the full ability and confidence to not only sustain the good work this task force has accomplished, but to continue it forward until such time comes that McGarrett is able to return to his post?"

So Denning wanted to know if Danny could handle protecting the islands. Sure, why not? He's done it before. Of course the reasons prior had never been because he had –almost single handedly—destroyed his partner's military career. But in all honesty, what was Danny supposed to say? No? Over the years he had learned from the best—when in troubled times, compartmentalize; Danny could beat himself up over the facts later, right now he had a job to do.

"Yes, sir, I can handle it."

"Then, Detective Williams, I shall leave you to it. …Please also note that after a time in the very near future," Denning flicked his eyes towards the island cousins and then back to Danny, "certain aspects of the previous conversation _**never**_ took place."

Catching his drift, the detective affirmed, "Understood, Governor." Shaking the man's hand, Danny reached for the door handle.

Upon exiting the cream sedan, Danny found Jonathan waiting—keys in hand—for him. Danny nodded in appreciation to the man before making his way to the trio on the front walk. Seeing her father, Grace pushed herself up from the concrete and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Danno."

He kissed the top of her head. "Hey, monkey."

Chin watched as the Governor's sedan pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto busy Punchbowl Street.

"Where's Uncle Steve?" Grace wondered, scanning the empty parking lot before staring up at her father wide eyed.

Noticing the way Danny's breath caught in his throat, Chin and Kono glanced at one another, before watching as their friend tried to hide his struggle of words. "Uh, listen monkey," Danny knelt down so he could look her in the eye and attempt to tell her as much truth as possible, "I know that Uncle Steve promised we could do a whole bunch of super fun, _and maybe a little bit insane_, things this summer…but, uh, as it turns out…um, at the last minute he, uh, needed to go away for a while. So we might not be able to do everything he promised."

Danny could see the disappointment etched in his daughter's face.

"Oh. Well, when's he coming back? Can we do them when he comes back?"

Again the Officer and the Lieutenant noticed the change in the man's facial features; that there was something more to the story than when he was actually saying. "Unfortunately, he's going to be gone for the whole summer."

"Oh. That sucks." His disappointed little girl sat back down on the pavement, absentmindedly rubbing chalk marks in a random pattern. "Is he going to call?"

Danny shook his head, "I don't think so, honey."

"Write?"

"I don't think he's going to be able to do that, either."

"Can I write to him?"

"Sure you can," he nodded, but his daughter quickly identified the look in his eyes and cut in with, "But I can't send anything to him, right?"

He hesitated a moment. "No, you can't. But you can save them and give them to him when he comes back." Those words only seemed to further her disappointment.

"Okay," she nodded reluctantly. And try as she might, Danny could see the 'happy' smile she pulled across her face was nothing more than a smokescreen. Grace Williams was a child of divorce; she learned disappointment, acceptance, and apparently compartmentalization at a very early age. It was adorable to think she was trying to make her father feel better, little did Grace know that she was only making him feel worse knowing that he couldn't heal his little girl's pain…or get his friend out of jail.

"Why don't you gather your things and we'll all go to Kamekona's for a bite?"

"Alright." Grace pushed herself up from the pavement, dusted her clothes and began boxing up her chalk.

Walking over to the Camaro, Danny yanked his tie from his neck, crumpled it up and flung it into the trunk; his blazer followed. Following their colleague and watching his actions, Kono managed to draw the wrong conclusion; while Chin studied the man further.

"So, the boss man did such an impressive job that now the Navy needs him for some special mission and you're all upset because he didn't take you with him? Do you miss him that much already or are you just becoming a bit of a thrill seeker in your aging years, hmm?" Kono joked and lightly punched the detective's arm.

But the way Danny's face fell as he slammed the trunk had Chin asking, "Danny, what happened? What _special mission_ is it that they want him to do?"

"Steve's_ not_ on a mission." Danny's voice was flat as he ran his fingers through his hair. Something, Chin noted, that Danny only did when he was nervous or frustrated.

Exchanging a look with his cousin, Chin thought back to what Danny had said to Grace not moments ago_, 'as it turns out…um, at the last minute he, uh, needed to go away for a while.' _While those words hadn't worried him a minute ago, judging by Danny's actions Chin thought it should worry him now. "You told Grace he had to go away for a while. Where is he?"

Danny sighed heavily before telling them, "He is either on his way to or is currently sitting in a military prison."

Chin and Kono were both stunned; he asked, "What?" and she asked, "Why?"

"Because Steve didn't impress anyone; apparently taking "unauthorized, non-military personnel" along on an undercover 'special request—granted' mission that also utilized, not personal, but government/military property by both parties isn't exactly kosher with any branch of the U.S. military."

"But the way Steve tells it, he would have been killed if you hadn't been with him." Chin thought back to last week. He remembered the grateful look in the SEAL's eyes when he and Danny had returned—late in the night— successful, filthy; a bit shaken, with only a few cuts, scrapes, bruises and luckily nothing more serious.

Danny shook his head, vehemently, "They don't see it that way. Steve was trained to act in regard to a certain set of rules. If he wanted back up he was supposed to bring someone trained to handle that type of situation."

Kono scoffed. "I can't think of anyone on this planet better trained to handle Steve and the situations he gets into better than you. You are trained. You're trained to handle weapons. You can shoot a gun."

"I am considered a civilian; therefore I am unauthorized and untrained. And the Navy is looking to charge the person in question, with multi-counts of Grand Larceny for the '_unauthorized, illegal and improperly trained use of government/military property'_."

"_Larceny_!" Kono almost shouted in disbelief, "_You didn't steal anything_; you borrowed and returned…whatever I am sure wasn't destroyed."

"I still wasn't _authorized to use it_."

Chin pointed to Grace off in the distance and motioned for Kono to calm down. "What happens now?" Chin wondered, worried, "To you?"

"Nothing, that's why Steve's not here, Denning said he was given an opportunity to name the _'civilian' _which accompanied him in exchange for being simply discharged from service. When he refused, they threated him with a ninety day hold to loosen his tongue. Denning said he stayed quiet. That falls under the category of poor conduct by a service member. When they invoked the sentence, Denning also said Steve told them that it didn't matter, his mind was made up and he wasn't going to tell them what they wanted to know. I told Denning to take me to them, that I would explain and he said that there was no point, despite what I said or to who I said it to, nothing was going to change for Steve."

"So when you say discharged, what does that mean, exactly?" Kono needed to hear it; speculation had gotten her to the wrong conclusion before.

"Poor conduct in regard to procedure coupled with poor conduct in direct defiance with orders to comply by any service member results in a _dishonorable_ discharge from service."

"So no matter what you say, Steve's still out and you might go to jail?" Chin clarified.

Danny nodded, "That's what Denning said. And I don't think it's 'might', I'm pretty sure it's 'definite'."

"Then it was the boss man's call, you can't beat yourself up over this. He's alive because, like always, you had his back, Danny. Now he has yours."

"Kono's right, brah, he had to have known what it meant; it was just the bad luck of the draw that you two got caught up in the cross fire that day."

Danny once more ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He made a fist and shook it in anger. "It was that damn patrol unit. They weren't supposed to be there at that time and then the clouds kept clearing in and out. The moon was so frigging bright; it was hard to stay hidden. He stumbled a bit when he was trying to crouch down enough to get his shadow out of sight; he hit that hidden trip wire and then whole thing just went to hell. We were almost out…clean. …"

Chin and Kono each gave a pitied smile at Danny's choice of words. Over the years he had, indeed, picked up much his of partner's lingo.

"…if we would have never gotten caught no one would have ever checked anything. No one would have known anything and Steve would be here talking Grace into an excitable coma rather than locked in a cage like an animal."

Kono was about to remind him that Danny had always referred to Steve as an animal, but due to current circumstances, thought better of it. But it turned out that she didn't have to, Danny had heard himself say it.

"I know," Danny snapped at the look on Kono's face, "I heard it!"

"Danny, don't," Chin warned. "If he could, I know Steve would be telling you the exact same thing. He may have never planned on the two of you getting caught, but once it happened, he was never going to let anything happen to you. He was never going to give them your name, Danny. We all know that; him, you, me, Kono."

"_You don't think that I don't know that?_ You don't think that I don't know that that…that stupid, stubborn, Neanderthal… _**moron**_ has the ability to be so _God damn noble_… that he would throw away a twenty year career just because he's so _God damn loyal_? _**I made him take me**_. _**I made him do it**_ _and now it's __**all my fault**__ that the best part of his life is over_."

Chin rested a hand on the blonde man's shoulder, "Danny, I don't think Steve thinks like that; especially when life changes every day. Tell me, wasn't there a time in your life, when you thought that it was the best; that it couldn't possibly change?"

Danny realized Chin was talking about his old life, in New Jersey. The one where he was happily married and lived with his wife and his daughter in their cute little two bedroom in Weehawken and worked for the Newark Police Department and thought things would be that way for the rest of his life. The one he had fought tooth and nail to keep, the one he ended up losing, the one that had kept him so bitter until he allowed himself to find happiness in a new one— with a job he would never admit he loved and some of the best friends that any one person could ever hope to encounter in a lifetime; including a___**stupid, stubborn, noble, loyal, Neanderthal animal moron**_ that, at best, only drove him just to the brink of insanity most days.

He nodded, so Chin continued, "Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall into place. You can't step forward in life without first stepping out of the past.And you _can't _feel guilty for him being _alive_ because _you were there to watch his back_. That's why he took you, Danny. Every single one of us, including McGarrett, know that the last couple of times he's gallivanted off into the night, _alone_, he's ended up a prisoner in North Korea and almost killed twice in the middle of a jungle. He trusts you…with his life…now you need to trust him…and –as difficult as this next part may be for you—his intellect. Trust that he knows what he is doing and why."

Why? A single word that was sometimes considered one of the greatest mysteries in the universe.

But, Chin knew why and so did Kono, and Danny, he knew too and so did Steve.

Steve and Danny were partners, best friends. They were brothers…family; ohana. They never turned their back on one another, not while having a fight with each other and not while in the middle of anything else. It was just how they were; they were always there when it counted and that was all that mattered.

"I know," Danny told the cousins, "I know, but it doesn't mean I feel any better about it. I don't. I'm not happy with how things turned out... I wish I could go back and change everything."

"Really?" Kono's tone was skeptical, "Everything? You wish you could go back in time and change everything? Brah, you may swear the boss has shortened your life by a decade, but I honestly believe _**you**__ have saved his_."

"Kono's right, Danny. I know you and McGarrett had a hard time getting the feel for each other in the beginning, but could you honestly imagine your life—any of our lives— without him?" Chin wondered.

She was right. Kono was absolutely right. And so was Chin. Living a life without ever having known the SEAL, would have been the equivalent to a life in which no Grace ever existed. There had been a point in time when the idea of being a father had frightened Danny almost to death; but now that very idea was unfathomable. And now it seems, the same stood for his partner.

Any one newcomer to HPD, or some sort of government post, or even, on occasion some member, or former, of a cooperating branch of the service would listen at rapt attention when hearing—for the first time— the story of how Danno and McGarrett came to be partners. Most would chuckle or flat out laugh out loud in sheer amusement. However, there were a few –the majority, HPD—who would scoff a hand at a supposedly fabricated legend or, even rarer still, the ones that would quit the very next day, never to be seen or heard from again; on the slight off chance it could happen to them. Danny never blamed them, it was a scary thought and an even harder reality to wrangle an –occasionally out of control— Navy SEAL.

The resigned look on his face, as the detective shook his head, told the island pair all they needed to know. Kono lightly snapped her fingers and subtlety pointed behind them. Grace had packed her bag and was coming to meet the adults at the Camaro. And Danny found himself repeating the Governor's words, "Guys, listen, uh, certain parts of this conversation never took place."

"Right," Kono agreed, before fixing a smile on her face.

Chin nodded, making a confirming noise in the back of his throat.

"I'm ready!" Came the sweet, happy, little voice of Grace Williams.

"You're ready?" Danny repeated. "Well, then, let's go. Do you guys want to come or do you want to take your own cars?"

Kono was about to say she would drive, when Chin interrupted her and said, "We'll ride with you, if you don't mind."

Danny shook his head again as he tucked Grace's bag into the trunk along with his—now wrinkled— blazer. Looking at her friend's face, Kono realized why Chin had volunteered them to go along. It was still too soon, and probably not a good idea to leave Danny alone with Grace and the thoughts and pangs of guilt in his head. He was going to be too distracted, he hadn't had enough time to process everything yet, and Grace, intuitive as she was, was going to notice right away that something was very wrong. And then she might fear the worst and Danny would be forced to tell her the whole truth and Kono wasn't sure which one of them—Danny or Grace—was going to have a harder time with that fact. Besides, Grace was a little girl; she didn't need nightmares plaguing her about her uncle being locked away in a jail cell and worrying about what if they came to take her daddy away, too. That just wasn't right.

So, both Chin and Kono did their best to keep the conversation flowing. Encouraging Grace to tell her father, everything they had done since her mother and step-father had dropped her off nearly two hours ago…

**Two Hours Earlier:**

Steve McGarrett stood—every bit the soldier he was trained to be—in front of the appointed court bench at the Wiapio United States Military Courthouse. The bench consisted of five superiors; an Admiral, three Commodores, and a Captain. Steve recognized the woman at the center, her name was Kathleen Cantor. She had been a Captain Lieutenant, the year he had received his rank of Midshipman— which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Then, Steve had to remind himself, it was.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," The Commodore on the left, James Thomas, began, "you were granted authorization for a personal, special request mission, were you not?"

"Yes, sir, I was."

"A mission that was completely fabricated considering you were not where you originally said you were going to be, but instead forty miles north of your specified location?"

Steve hesitated for a moment, before saying, "Yes, sir, that is correct."

"And where you ended up—_under cover of night and concealed from your fellow brethren in the area_—without authorization, was an off limits location that was knowingly restricted to your clearance level?"

"Yes, sir, that is correct," he repeated.

From the far side of the bench the Captain made a dissatisfied, "Hmm," noise in the back of her throat.

"True or false, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, on this special request mission you brought along not trained, authorized personnel, but a _civilian_ to aid you?"

Steve blinked as he thought about how he needed to choose his next words carefully.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Admiral Cantor addressed him when he was quiet for far too long, "Commodore Thomas asked you a question. Do you need it to be repeated?"

Steve McGarrett had been doing a lot of repetition of his own, lately, it really wasn't necessary from someone else. Looking at her, he replied, "No, ma'am," and then turned his attention to the Commodore, "I brought along what _**I personally**_ deemed as appropriate assistance that would result in the successful completion of my mission, sir."

Though Steve knew he had answered the question incorrectly, in stating a long drawn out answer, when he was asked for a short simple one, Commodore Thomas apparently seemed to let him slide. However, the Captain's jaw had clenched and she pursed her lips; an action that did not go unnoticed by the Admiral.

"A mission fabricated to conceal a hidden agenda?" Admiral Cantor wanted to clarify. And Steve knew there was no other way around this one, except for the truth; considering how far deceit had gotten him.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I seem to recall, not very long ago, that Commander Joseph White was also disciplined for similar actions," a second Commodore on the bench, Thatcher Deveraux, spoke. "It could not be proven, _but it was suspected_ that he organized an unrequested and unauthorized personal mission of his own under the guise of delivering medical supplies. _It was also suspected, though unfounded_, that one, or more, unnamed and unauthorized personnel accompanied him. Am I right in stating that the same or one of the same unnamed and unauthorized individuals accompanied you as well on your request granted mission?"

Knowing he couldn't possibly get away with it twice, this time, Steve respectfully answered Commodore Deveraux. "I cannot say, sir."

The female Captain, Sophia Parker on the right of the bench narrowed her eyes. She had clearly taken upset at Steve's direct defiance in answering the Commodore's question before and was not about to allow him to do it again. Her voice was sharp as she demanded a clear answer. "_**You cannot, Lieutenant Commander, or you will not?**_"

"I will not, ma'am," Steve corrected himself.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, _you are awar_e that it is against protocol to have any other individual other than trained personnel exercise performance in any type of, or in this case, special requested granted service themed operations, _**correct**_?" The Captain asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"So being aware of the code of practice, are you telling this bench that you _**chose to ignore**_ that fact?"

Steve swallowed; her gaze was very hard and intense. He had become so used to stare downs where he ended up calling the shots. It had been a long time since he had been in such defenseless position. "Yes, ma'am."

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, are you also aware that this direct violation results in an immediate discharge from service?"

This Captain, Steve knew, wasn't about to let up. It had been an honor for her to even be sitting on a bench panel with three Commodores and an Admiral. Just like Admiral Cantor, Captain Parker was also a driven woman determined to rise through the ranks and prove herself to be top brass. That also meant a complete and total respect for not only the Navy, but every branch of the United States Military and every code of conduct that came with them.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And that untrained and unauthorized personnel utilizing government/military grade property and arms without it being personally owned, goes against protocol as well?" Commodore Deveraux asked in clarification.

"Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Commodore Yates finally spoke up, seemingly baffled, "after reviewing your near exemplary twenty plus years' service record, what I do not understand is, _**wh**_y you would carry out such an audacious act knowing the consequences?"

This time, however, even though Steve hadn't given an immediate answer, no one seemed to demand one, they all just sat— patiently— waiting.

Steve addressed the bench with the only response he could, "My reasons are my own."

"Should we take that to mean the answer is of a personal nature, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett?" Yates questioned.

"Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Admiral Cantor brought his attention her way, "all reasons aside, this court is prepared to offer you a simple discharge of service in exchange for naming the civilian th…."

However, before the Admiral could finish her sentence, Steve cut in, "I cannot do that,", and then amended, "_**I will not**_ do that." Seeing the look of astonishment on her face at being spoken over by a junior officer, he just as quickly added, "...ma'am."

The look on the Admiral's face became very serious and Steve could easily feel the eyes of the persons in the court room behind him boring into the back of his skull as well as the other four members on the bench.

Folding her hands in front of her, the Admiral fixed him with a stare and then a sharp tone, "Let us all be perfectly clear about something, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, you should speak when spoken directly to, _only after_ a question has been poised and completed; _**yes or no**_?"

_Oops._

"Yes, ma'am. Please accept my apologies."

But whether or not she accepted his apologies went unknown as she quickly moved on to her next question.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, you mean to tell me that you would rather _entirely mar_ the notable accomplishments of your _**twenty plus years' service record**_, and possibly face obstruction charges rather than comply with the request of this court?"

Steve had to admit, hanging a guilt trip of past honor and service over his head would have been the way he would have done it too, had their roles been reversed. It was meant to make you question your decisions as to how you began here and where you were now ending up. The only flaw in that logic was that Steve had already made this decision the very second he had asked Danny to back him up. If by some misfortune, they were caught doing what the Navy man knew was wrong to be doing with the aid of a non-combatant; Steve had already planned to _'let the chips fall where they may'_.

The spoken out loud answer was one not a soul in that courtroom —with the exception of Hawaii's Governor, who had tucked himself in the far back corner of the room— had been expecting.

"Yes, ma'am."

Save for the speech among the bench members and the Lieutenant Commander the room that had been filled with silent people who had just turned—if possible— into a stunned silence.

The bench members looked at one another— that wasn't what they were expecting, either.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Commodore Yates rubbed his chin, "I cannot decide whether your decision is _very _noble or _very stupid_."

Admiral Cantor gave Yates a silencing look and then spoke again, "You are aware that I can invoke up to a ninety day SCH sentence over you if you do not comply with the request of this court?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

"Does that change your mind?"

"No, ma'am, it does not," Steve answered of the threat.

Steve could have sworn that he saw an impressed smile grace her lips; however, it just as quickly disappeared. "All right then, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, I hereby sentence you to a period of_** no less**_ than ninety days in SCH," –yes, the Admiral was going to play hard ball— "let's see if that will loosen your tongue." But even as she finished her sentence, her tone was doubtful.

And that conclusion was all the more solidified by the final statement the junior officer issued that day, "No, it will not, ma'am."

Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett was a very stubborn man; possibly just as stubborn as she was. The Admiral held his gaze for a few seconds before she nodded to the MP's to escort the Lieutenant Commander away.

Outside the courtroom, in the hallway Steve heard his name being called. He recognized the voice instantly, it was Danny's, but avoided looking at him at all costs. He silently prayed his eternally nosy partner would take the hint and stay away.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H5 0H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

Hours later Steve was being led down a stuffy, dimly lit hallway wearing simple thin, long black pants and a white t-shirt. On either side of the hallway there were solid metal doors spaced about eight feet apart from one another, each door had the outline of a smaller one foot wide opening at chest level.

When his escorts stopped him in front of one of the metal doors, Steve glanced up at the number above it.

50.

How appropriate.

Steve couldn't help but wonder if it had been a deliberate act or a random coincidence. He supposed it really didn't matter, either way he was going to have three months to mull it over.

When the metal door opened, Steve walked in without any prompting and the MP's removed his restraints. Once that was over, he heard the metal door slide shut behind him.

Blowing out a breath of hot air and reaching his arms out, the SEAL could almost touch the room end to end. As he glanced around the room, he realized that the reason the doors were eight feet apart on the outside was because the concrete walls had to be at least a foot thick between each room and probably the back wall and the wall with the door as well. When he turned and reached his arms out again, he came to the conclusion that the room was seven feet all the way around. Looking up he judged the ceiling to be at least ten feet high with a lone florescent light hung down from the center of the ceiling. Not more than five minutes had gone past when it shut off throwing the concrete room into greyness; the only light being provided through a skinny three foot window near the top of the ceiling, running across horizontal that showed the stray beams of light from the outside spotlights.

Facing the room from the door meant that the bed was one the right. Or at least what counted for a bed in this place. Steve curled his fingers around the three sided stainless steel frame and pushed it all the way down until it lay flat out from the wall. There was no mattress, so it couldn't even be classified as a cot. Instead there were tightly woven black strips of thick material that looked something akin to a net.

Placing a hand on the material, he gingerly tested his weight. It appeared to be strong enough to hold him. This allowed him to view the room from a different angel. He could now see, even in the dim light, the stainless steel toilet bowl and small sink in the corner with the shatter proof mirror above it. Directly down the line from that was a shower head protruding out from the wall, looking down he noticed the narrow slits in the floor for the water to run through. Looking at the outline of the chest high opening on the door, Steve now noticed the thick bubble that created the hinge. It dropped down inside like a tray when opened from the outside.

This was going to be way different from the week he had spent in Halawa; there he was at least allowed out into the prison yard for an hour. But here in this room, with the way it was laid out, was exactly where he was going to spend _every single second_ of his ninety day hold.

Clever.

Steve stretched out on his framed net—as best he could, discovering it was just big enough to fit his height— and he decided that Danny had, indeed, taken the hint. Otherwise, he was positive that he wouldn't be here but, instead finding a way to get in to see his partner in one of the courthouse's interview rooms. And for that fact alone, he was grateful.

The SEAL had— as his partner had once put it— chased shoe-bombers all around the world. He had had nice lodgings when on leave and less nicer accommodations when on tour, he knew this was meant to make him crack, but honestly it wasn't all that bad. The only thing that would probably drive Steve mad was the lack of chatter from his best friend. But, he let the fact that in three months this would all be over and he would have it all back, minus his service career, of course, comfort him.

There were just some things in life that were more important than looking respectable in the eyes of everyone. The Navy and probably all Military branches would forever frown upon him, but love, honor and pride of country existed in more ways than just as a written set of rules. You didn't need the entire world to love and have a regard for you, sometimes just one person was enough, or in Steve's case, a handful that he called Ohana.

That was the second thought he allowed to relax him as he drifted off to sleep.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H5 0H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Three Months Later:**

Kathleen Cantor was not a woman to either be taken lightly or to be pushed around. She had always been demanding, persistent, tough. She worked hard to rise through the ranks; and today, she sat before Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, at the center spot on the bench in the Senior Officer position of Admiral. She would personally (and formally) deliver a fate that had long since been sealed.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, you seem to have, during your time of service, made quite a reputation for yourself among the officials of the United States Navy. Your—nearly spotless—twenty plus years' service record is extremely impressive— which brands the proceedings here today an even greater shame. You have proven yourself to be an affluent member of service. One who has shown a great deal of pride, honor and loyalty— at least, until now; though I will acknowledge that there are some individuals present who may not agree; individuals who may view your silence as a version of pride, honor and loyalty on a personal level that would betray your very own principles by divulgence. _Venerable."_

So she had been impressed.

"_**However**_**,** your personal views _**are not**_**,**_** cannot**_ and _**will not**_ be the standard procedures the United States Navy abides by. And while it goes against the advice of JAG officials, the Secretary of the Navy has recommended that you not be charged with obstruction or additionals — despite your refusal to supply us with the much sought after information, _**and**_that the matter—_**in its entirety**_— no longer be pursued. This court has agreed. Consider it a parting gift, Lieutenant Commander."

Steve nodded once. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Is there anything you wish to address to the court?" Admiral Kathleen Cantor asked; her tone clipped and her eyes staring sharply over the frames of her reading glasses.

"No, ma'am," Steve answered.

The Admiral then removed her glasses, placed them on the table and folded her hands in front of her. "Then, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, you are_ dismissed_."

Without breaking composure Steve turned and walked out of the room. Once he heard the soft click of the door close behind him, he took a deep steadying breath. Though he would never come to regret his decision, standing there, in the center of that room had been the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. But now that it was finally over, Steve felt as if a giant weight was lifted from him.

Another deep breath and the—former—Naval Intelligence officer and SEAL found himself walking, perfect posture, hat still tucked neatly underneath his left arm, down the gleaming white marble hallway of the Military Courthouse— this time— towards its exit.

Moving out into the beautiful Hawaiian sunshine, Steve placed his hat atop his head and breathed in the fresh warm air; it was laced with salt and the sea. It was quite a refreshing change from the atmosphere of the concrete and metal room he had spent the summer residing in.

Stepping onto the black pavement two things caught Steve McGarrett's attention. The first was that he felt like he was being watched; the second was that among a nearly filled parking lot it was the older model black sedan that had caught his eye. He thought it had looked familiar, but what he first determined as unlikely, now decidedly deserved another look.

Shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun, the former SEAL stared off in the direction he felt eyes from and sure enough it happened to be in the same direction as the classic model car; which looked a great deal like his late father's Marquis.

In the driver's seat sat a sun tanned skinned man wearing dark sunglasses and an off white Pro Bowl cap. Though to any passerby it may have looked like he was concentrating his full attention on the book with the folded back cover he held against the steering wheel; Steve could feel the man's eyes on him even through the black lenses.

Turning, he caught sight through the large glass doors that at the end of the hall, the large wooden ones to the court room had been opened and the Senior Officers stood just outside, speaking amongst themselves.

As Steve made his way across the parking lot the man in the Marquis didn't acknowledge him; not even when he opened the passenger door and sat down. In fact, the only response the man made was to set the book down and start the car's engine. The car pulled from its spot and drove the appropriate ten mile speed towards the exit.

As the Marquis turned the corner of the building Steve noticed—in the rearview mirror— the Admiral stepping out onto the pavement; her sharp eyes scanning the parking lot, a puzzled look clouding her face. She had obviously seen him through the glass doors. The only thing Steve couldn't figure out was why she looked so puzzled as she scanned the lot. She had spoken her piece on the matter and he been dismissed from both his post and the room. He decided to put it out of his mind; though he doubted it would happen – Steve knew he would be summoned again if there was anything else to be addressed.

The two men remained in an awkward silence as they traveled the road that would take them to the U-turn for the main highway.

Steve had decided enough was enough. He had had his fill of quiet time and was dying for normalcy. Even if that meant Danny yelling at him, it would be a welcome relief. "You didn't have to pick me up."

"You were what? Going to walk? Its twenty-five miles from Waipio to Koko Head; besides, you just tanked your career with the Navy to keep me out of prison, _the leas_t I could do was pick you up." Danny started out irritated, but finished on a softer note, "…it was only a forty minute drive."

"Eighty, both ways, plus how ever long you spent sitting in the parking lot," Steve pointed out, then wondered, "How did you know I was getting out today?"

"Denning told me. He's been pretty pleasant these last three months. I guess he's felt sorry for me."

He knew it, he just knew it. Steve sighed. "_Daniel, please don't tell me that you have spent the entire summer feeling guilty?_"

"_Well, how was I supposed to feel __**Steven**__? Happy?"_ Danny mocked. "I'm supposed to be _**happy**_ that you spent the last three months locked up? I'm supposed to be _**happy**_ that you threw away something that you've worked your entire life for? Since you were sixteen years old, your life has been building to this…this, esteemed honor, pride, love of country. You, people like you, are the epitome of the true all American hero, and that's…it's gone now."

There he was. That was the Danny Steve knew; the one he missed. Danny was irritated and Steve couldn't tell who Danny was mad at. What Danny really mad at him for what he had done? Was he mad at himself for letting Steve do what he did? Was he just mad at the entire situation? _Or_ was he just mad, because Danny was Danny and by nature, always had to be mad about something?

Steve had to tread carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was to upset his friend further. "They're not gone," he whispered in reference to Danny's mention of honor, pride, country and heroism. "While it's true that those integrities are the backbone of written Military guidelines that's not where they truly exist; they're not gone, they're right here," Steve patted his heart.

However, that still wasn't easing the blonde's internal struggle. "Aren't you considered a disgrace now in the eyes of everything you once stood for? Won't that be how they look at you? You're going to tell me it was worth it?" Danny shook his head, his voice uneven, "…You should have just let me tell the truth."

"_**For what**_?" this time Steve yelled. "Telling the truth wasn't going to change the fact that _**I**_ broke the rules Danny! The only thing that was going to change was that you were going to go to jail for a decade _**at the very minimum**_ and I wasn't about to let my niece grow up without her father! _**Especially**__, if I could do something to prevent it!_ I grew up without a _mother_ _and a father_. **You**_** know**_ my mother faked her own death and my father sent me and my sister away_. That's __**tough**__ on a kid, Dann_y. _**No one**_ to tell you they love you every day, _no one there to say good night_ when it's time for bed or take you to the movies, spend time with you just because. Now, imagine how tough it would be for her to deal with that. How everyone is going to treat her, if they find out her father is a _**former**_ cop who was _**convicted**_ as a _**felon**_ for _**stealing**_ _**Military grade weapons from the American governmen**_**t**. And, yes, you and I both know that you didn't steal anything and what wasn't used and still usable was returned, but you still weren't authorized to use them and yet, they were in _**your possession**_. _**I**_ may have been the one to give you access to them, _**but that was exactly**_ how it was going to play out. I wouldn't do that to Grace, and I certainly wouldn't do it to you. When I decided to serve my country, Danny, _with pride, honor and love of countr_y, it didn't just mean the actual land that creates it. That meant _**everything**_ and _**everyone**_ that lives under this flag. _**I knew what I was doing was considered wrong by their standards**_**.** I won't lie to you, _**I was hoping that we were going to get away with it**_**,** but like you told to me once before— we live on borrowed time; luck will eventually run out and things catch up to you. _They __**always**__ do_. It was _still considered wrong_ in their eyes. _**But**_ that is in _their eyes only_, because we wouldn't even be sitting here, having this conversation, if I hadn't taken you with me; _**because I would be lying dead where I stood three and a half months ago.**__ My life would no longer exist_! Why don't you get it? I'm not mad, Danny, I never was, it was a decision I made and accepted the very second I said 'come'. All these years we've spent together, are you going to tell me that we don't know each other just as well, if not better than we know ourselves? _**Who else**_ _was going to be able to react at the drop of a hat like that?_ _With me_? _Where we were_? I needed _**my**_ partner; I needed him to _**watch my back**_**,** _**okay**_? _**I needed you**_." Steve let that hang in the air between them for a second, before he finally drove his point home. "_I'm grateful to have you and everyone I do, in my life_. _**I regret nothing**_. _And if I had to do it all again_, _**I. Wouldn't. Change. A. Thing**_**."**

Though Danny's eyes had grown moist, he refused to blink. He was well aware that his partner sat staring at him. He just kept his eyes front and continued to drive, his left arm bent at the elbow, resting on the window's edge— thumb and forefingers cradling his head; right hand gripping the old fashioned steering wheel.

Danny chuckled mirthlessly and lightly shook his head; when he finally did speak, Steve could hear the steady control of emotion that he was holding over his voice, "You see, what did I tell you? The epitome of a true, all-American hero."

"I am no more an all-American hero than you are."

Danny snorted. He opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by Steve who feared his partner's current dark place was going to cause him to degrade himself further.

"Those qualities that you consider a hero, they aren't reserved strictly for service members who stand in uniform. They exist inside the beating heart, inside the mind, the body, the virtue, the soul of every individual who chooses—of their own free will— to quell their fear for the time being, to fight against any and all injustice, to stand up for not only what they believe in, but what they know in their heart is right, to protect those around them, no matter the cost, because it may mean the difference between life and death. You want to say that all of those qualities I possess? Thank you, I am glad that you see them in me. I am proud that I let them show. You really want to consider me a hero? Okay, fine, thank you, partner, but just know that those merits include you as well. You have them, too. I know, because I've seen them. Live and in full color display. _You_ are _my_ hero. "

"Ha! Some hero I am, I let _my best friend_ go to jail for me!" Danny bit his tongue a second too late. He had let it slip and now it was out in the open; he just had to pray that the always in tuned SEAL had missed it altogether. But Danny knew that he hadn't.

Steve had to pause for a second. In all the years that he had known his partner, he knew that the two of them were friends. And Steve knew that he considered Danny to be his best friend, but that was the first time he had ever heard Danny refer to him as _his 'best friend'_.

It warmed the man's heart, but at the same time annoyed him a bit; but only because if this had been any other moment in time, Steve would have not just appreciated the sentiment, but also taken sheer pleasure in teasing Danny about it until Kingdom come.

"_You didn't __**let m**__e do anything_. _**We**_ simply let the endgame play out, because it was the only move left," Steve finally said. He studied his partner once more and noticed that Danny had a resigned look beginning to form on his face.

Almost there.

Danny was the type of person to stay upset about something until every 'i' had been dotted and every last 't', crossed. For the three months they had spent apart, Danny had stewed because he had no one to talk to about the events of that day; the ones leading up to it and the ones that followed after. Because…well, how could he? The only person that was going to possibly understand wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Trust me for about twenty seconds I was worried you were going blow it, if you didn't stop trying to get my attention that day." Steve actually sounded relieved as he said it.

Danny nodded slowly, still not looking in Steve's direction. "I guess that day you had my back and Denning had yours. He was in the courtroom?"

"Yeah, I saw him sitting in the back when I walked in. Somehow I got the feeling that he knew more than he let on."

"Yeah, me too," Danny nodded in agreement. "For being _Mr. Authoritative_, he really does let Five-0 toe the line quite a bit under the guise that he doesn't know jack."

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked quizzically.

"Among other things…" Danny looked lost in thought as he spoke, "I'm pretty sure he knows about the Jenna Kaye North Korea thing and maybe even the forfeiture locker incident. It wasn't anything he said, _specifically,_ but more _the way he sounded_ when we talked that day."

Steve nodded and both men fell silent, alone with their thoughts, each having many cycling through, like a film on loop.

The ride was quiet again, for a time, until they passed Diamond Head and Steve broke the silence once again. "_Heroism, like courage, doesn't always roar like a lion, sometimes it's a quiet little voice in the background that says, 'okay, well just try again tomorrow'_."

"What fortune cookie did you pull that out of?" Danny asked turning off of the main highway onto Lunalilo Road.

"It's something my dad used to say when I was little," Steve told him as he watched one street fade into the other. "It kind of reminds me of you, Danny, you never give up…well most of the time, it's more like you _never shut up_, but, you know, it's almost the same difference. Actually, you know what? It's both. Your mouth has gotten us out of plenty of scrapes that my stupidity has gotten us into."

Danny didn't answer as he pulled the wheel left onto the familiar street, Piikoi. At the far end Steve could see the black Camaro parked in the driveway behind his blue Silverado; both cars were parked along the right hand side.

Steve immediately noticed that the house looked just as it did when he left it three months ago; not one thing was out of place for a house that had been vacant. The lawn was mowed, the shrubbery was neatly trimmed, the recycling bins had been moved in from the curb, and the mail wasn't over flowing in the box.

Once the door was up, Danny pulled the Marquis into the garage and cut the engine. He let out a long sigh, before asking, "How long are you going to keep at this, Father McGarrett? Attempting to absolve me of my sins?" Without waiting for an answer Danny got out of the car.

Hearing the keys jingling Steve watched as his partner unlocked the inside door to his house, the rapid bleeping followed by a short steady beep heard ten seconds later told him Danny had disarmed the alarm system.

Steve leaned his head back against the seat and sighed. Apparently those three months had really messed with his head, he had thought he been a lot closer to making Danny see the light.

Getting out of the car, Steve hit the button to the garage door and followed his partner into the house; which was just as well kept as the outside. The plants were still alive, the house didn't have that sent of stale air from being closed up for so long, nor was there a speck of dust anywhere to be found. On his father's old desk sat three months' worth of stock piled junk mail and magazines. The only thing he noticed out of place was his desk top filing system. Though he had been absent for three months, the system was in perfect order and up to today's date. Steve didn't have not one bill past due.

Shaking his head, Steve was about to say something when he realized he was alone. His eyes found the open door to the lanai and the figure sitting in one of the old wooden chairs; gaze lost on the gentle lapping of the shallow waves against the shore line.

Danny had taken care of everything. In fact, Steve was willing to put his head on the chopping block in wagering that if he opened up his refrigerator and kitchen cabinets that they, too, would be fully stocked; and nothing would be even close to an expiration date.

"I guess I'll keep at it, until you realize that you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about," Steve said dropping the three month's stack of paid bills and un-cashed checks down on the small weather beaten table and sitting down in the empty chair opposite his partner.

Danny looked over to find that Steve had changed into faded dark cargo pants, a dark grey t-shirt and a navy blue colored button down that was hanging open and loose around his frame. Come to think of it—Danny studied him more closely—all of Steve's clothes looked loose on him. It hadn't been noticeable while he had his dress blues on because the straight line of black that ran from the pants up towards the thick fabric of the jacket. They camouflaged the now obvious weight loss. It wasn't excessive, but it was definitely noticeable to anyone who had been closely observing.

The t-shirt that normally fit taut around Steve's broad chest and muscled torso fluttered gently in the light ocean breeze; as if there was just a little too much material and not enough body mass. The cargo pants that usually had just enough give to make them comfortable now leaned a little more toward the baggy side. Danny could clearly see the worn groove in the belt was now exposed as it was pulled a notch tighter around his waist.

"I don't want your money." Sensing where this might be going Danny pushed all the paper back at his partner and glanced at the time on his phone, it was just after 11:00 A.M.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Danny beat him to it, "I guess jail doesn't have the same diet that you're used to?"

Steve looked down at his clothes; realizing that sitting made his trivial weight loss more evident. It caused them to appear saggier in some areas. He had hoped that by keeping with the dark contour of clothing Danny wouldn't notice. That was useless as _**Detective**_ Williams noticed pretty much everything and rarely missed a thing.

He pulled his button down closer over his body and took a good look at Danny in the bright light of day verses the shadows cast by the interior of the car. It wasn't quite the same difference in weight Steve had, but he noticed that Danny too, looked a bit thinner. However, what was the real difference was that Danny also looked like he hadn't slept well… in a _very_ long time. About three months, if Steve had to wager a guess. His face looked drawn; his usually lively baby blues lacked their sparkle and instead looked drained.

"Mine's mostly loss of muscle mass; what's your excuse?" he wondered. Danny just looked at him. "And it technically wasn't a jail, so…" Steve just let the conversation drop off, unsure of what to say next. Everything had pretty much already been said.

"I thought about going to see you; talk to you, but Denning said that it was a better idea for me to keep my distance."

"He was right. Besides I think you would have had a pretty hard time finding me; let alone getting in to see me."

Steve prior words about it not technically being a jail peaked his interest. Denning had told him it was a Military custodial, but he never had thought to ask what exactly that had meant, let alone where exactly it was.

"What does that mean?" Danny asked, suddenly having the feeling that they weren't talking about a normal jail, like Halawa. "_Where were you_?"

Steve really wanted nothing more than to just have this all be over with, he never wanted Danny to be a part of any of this. And for the most part he hadn't been, Steve had kept him out of the limelight, but Danny had still suffered in the darkness… and in silence.

Now, he could clearly see, by the state Danny was in, that he wasn't letting it go until he knew every last detail.

Why?

Steve could only fathom a guess; perhaps this was his idea of closure—to know it all and then lock it away.

"The SCH Holding Center at The Naval Reserve Base in Fort Worth."

"Fort Worth?" Danny thought the place sounded familiar and then it hit him, he snapped his head in Steve's direction, "…_Texas_?"

Steve nodded.

In disbelief, Danny asked again, "_They took you all the way to __**Texas**_**?**" He had to make sure he was hearing this right. When Steve nodded again the look on Danny face morphed into one that read _'unbelievable'_. "What does SCH stand for?"

Now Steve could have tried to hide it from him, but Danny would have seen through it just as easily as he had noticed his clothes didn't fit and that would have started a whole big thing between them. The hours on end arguing which would turn into bickering, which lead to them fighting, which would move into straight up yelling at one another, until Steve finally caved and spilled just to hear Danny shut up.

No, this whole thing had begun with him skirting around the truth. Other than the pain, Steve knew it was going to cause Danny; there really wasn't a reason why he couldn't know the facts. So despite him wanting to spare a man who has spent the last three months mentally abusing himself Steve told him the truth, "It stands for Solitary Confinement Handling."

"Solitary?"

Steve nodded.

"So it was basically a lock down wing? Which, I'm guessing was meant to force your…'_tongue'_ so to speak?"

Steve nodded again, "Pretty much."

Danny could see it in Steve's eyes that he was only going to tell him, if he asked, but only if.

"It's not like Halawa is it?"

"No."

"How different is it?"

"It's a part of a building that's almost completely underground from the outside. From the outside, it looks like a one story warehouse made of solid concrete with single horizontal glass windows going all the way around. Inside, it's like a long, huge warehouse. It's basically a long hallway with solid metal doors that are spaced eight feet apart. Each room is set up to," Steve thought for a second about which word to use and decided on, "accommodate each individual for the entire length of their hold." He had spoken slowly, almost hesitantly; watching for Danny's every reaction. It was like he thought he could somehow stop the words from making an impact.

"So they kept you locked in a metal room for three months?"

There was no reason to back track and correct the man, metal or concrete it wasn't going to make a difference. They were both meant to do the same thing, hold; so Steve nodded and waited. The only reaction was that his partner's miserable, guilt ridden look returned. Danny stood up and walked a few steps away, towards the ocean's edge. Steve watched his partner stare out at the water and rake all ten fingers through his hair.

Danny turned at the sudden weight on his shoulder, it was Steve's hand; he turned the man completely to face him and pulled him into a tight hug. Hugging him back, Danny whispered, "I'm so sorry… brother…I…"

"Danno, you've got to let this go. Okay? ...I have. It wasn't your fault, it never was. I don't blame you and I _**never **_will. _**I do not regret**_ the decisions I have made and I already told you, if I had to, I'd do it all again. Because you and I both know that in this world, good people are hard to find and good friends are even harder. Babe, I can't think of anything so important to trade for our friendship."

Danny pulled away to look his partner in the eye. He could see it, he could see everything; the trustworthiness and the gratitude of having someone that he could—without a doubt— rely on, the truth of his words and perhaps the most important was what he didn't see. Danny Williams could not see one trace of regret inside those blue orbs that stared back at him.

Danny nodded in affirmation and said to himself, _'Not even a twenty year Navy career'. _As they stood there, by the water's edge, every single moment leading up to this point flashed across his mind like a silent film. The beginning hostilities between them, the hatred—all of the arguments and the disagreements and the flat out fights; the synching in on ideas, thoughts and strategies, the banter and the laughter, the jokes—the anticipation and the enjoyment of being around someone who was— for the most part— just like you. The worry that it might all come crashing down around you, if you didn't hold on to it like fragile piece of glass …or even treat it like a motion sensitive bomb.

But what the blonde couldn't—for the life of him—remember was, when was the turning point when had it all shifted? It had been such a smooth unnoticeable transition; like when night suddenly becomes day and you're so wrapped up in everything else you seem surprised that it even happened.

Is that when it happened?

Is that really what happens?

Does the sun really just rise and fall one day and suddenly your entire universe is never the same?

After he felt Danny was silent for way too long, Steve asked, "Can you promise me that you'll let this go? That you'll stop blaming yourself?"

The blonde stared at he thought for a minute.

Could he?

Then he nodded slowly and said, "In time."

Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was going to have to do; those words seemed to brighten Steve's mood a bit. He gave his friend a smile that almost reached his eyes, "Okay. That's good."

Danny once more looked at the time on his cell phone; 11:30 A.M.

"Come on," he said to the former SEAL.

"Where are we going?"

Danny's only reply was, "Grace."

Realizing the man didn't understand, Danny explained further, "The first two weeks of the new school year are noon dismissals to get the kids used to the routine again." The detective looked the man in front of him up and down, "Besides, you look like you could use a good meal. We'll pick her up and go have lunch." The blonde's voice was gentle and encouraging as he jutted his head, "Come on." Making his way to the front door, Danny stopped by the coffee table and swapped out the keys to the Marquis for his Camaro.

Steve had just locked the front door behind them when Danny suddenly tossed the car keys over his shoulder; without missing a beat Steve's hand closed around the shaped metal. In the reflection of the front window, the tall man saw the smile that curled on his partner's lips as the keys made a soft _'clink' _sound when entrapped by his palm.

In most cases time worked against people, but sometimes it was exactly what people needed to get things back to normal.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H5 0H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

By the time Danny and Steve had arrived at Grace's school the classes has been assembled into circles on the wide spread pavement. Dozens of parents stood around with their children while the teachers were each making end of day announcements to their respective students.

Danny walked over to where Grace was and rubbed one hand over her head as he relieved her of her school bag with the other. The little girl smiled and grabbed her father's hand and leaned into the side of his body.

"We've had a great first week, everybody," the teacher spoke. "And I can see that we are getting into the swing of things just fine…."

Off in the distance a car door slammed, but no one really paid any mind to it. Some parents arrived early, some arrived late and other children knew in which direction to line up to catch their bus.

Grace stood next to her father, only half listening to what her teacher was saying. It was Friday and the only thing she really wanted was to go home and spend the weekend with her father. The girl rolled her eyes and yawned when something caught her eye, a shadow that had been thrown from behind her. It was very long from the sun, which meant that the person who cast it had to have been pretty tall. To her it looked familiar, but it couldn't have been? Could it?

Danny smiled as he felt Grace's hand tighten in his palm, her body go very straight and a light gasp escape her lips. Dropping her father's hand, she spun around and her eyes went wide as she screamed out excitedly, "UNCLE STEVE!" She leapt nearly two feet from the pavement and locked her arms around the neck of the man who stood behind her.

The sudden outburst caused not only her teacher to stop speaking, but the others as well, and many of the adults and children to turn around in their direction to see what all the fuss was about.

Steve caught the little girl's weight with ease and tightly wrapped his arms around her small frame, "Hi, Gracie," he whispered in her ear.

"I missed you," she mumbled into his neck.

"I missed you, too," he whispered back.

Many smiled at the sight of a little girl thrilled to be wrapped in the arms of such a large man who looked like he couldn't have been happier to see her.

"Well," the teacher said smiling, "it looks like Grace has already had a nice start to her weekend."

"Sorry," Danny mouthed at her.

A smile still decorating her lips, the teacher shook her head and waved him off, continuing speaking to the group like nothing had happened. Less than two minutes later she dismissed them, "Alright, everyone, go on home and enjoy your weekend, I will see you all bright and early Monday morning."

"Daddy said that you had to go do something important for the Navy and that's why you had to go away and couldn't be here for the summer," Grace told her uncle as he carried her to the car.

The two men exchange a quick, yet subtle glance before Steve smiled down at the little girl with the big brown eyes in his arms staring up at him. He had never expected Danny to tell her the truth. Of course, Steve also knew that he hadn't lied to her either, if anything, Danny, being the dad he was, had simply omitted many details to avoid upsets and nightmares. "Yes, that's right; the Navy requested me to go away for a while, so I had to."

"Was it dangerous?"

"Hmm, no, not this time. It was mainly self-contained intelligence."

"Did you have fun?"

"Not nearly as much fun as it would have been here with you and your dad."

"Uncle Steve, are you going to have to go away again?"

"Nope, never again."

"But what if the Navy needs you for something else."

"That was my last assignment with the Navy, Gracie," Steve told her, "I…" he allowed his eyes to flick to his partner, who had just taken a quiet, deep breath. The pain filled look had returned to his eyes, as Steve desperately tried to think of a word that would not only fit in for her to understand, but cause her father less grief. The only word that seemed to fit was, "retired."

The little girl's eyes lit up at the words. "Really? You mean you never have to go back, _**ever**_?"

Danny put the backpack he had been carrying into the trunk, before looking up at his daughter settled comfortably in her uncle's arms. The look on her face was so excited that one could have sworn the little girl had just been told that the forecast had called for candy and glitter to rain from the sky.

"That's right."

"That's the greatest thing I've ever heard!" Grace wrapped her arms around Steve's neck once more, squeezed him tight and kissed his cheek.

"Really?" Steve asked as he reciprocated the kiss and pulled the Camaro's driver seat forward.

"Yeah," Grace rattled on as Steve tucked her in the back seat. "Mommy says that home is always where the heart is; and that one person can have many homes because it's where the people you love are. So as long as there are people somewhere that you love, no matter where you are you're home. And, I know Danno misses New Jersey, but I'm really glad that we came here to Hawaii; its home, too now."

Danny paused—mid-way with getting himself into the passenger seat— at his daughter's comment. Grace didn't notice because she has busied herself with her cell phone, probably updating her Twitter or Facebook that her long awaited uncle had returned home. Though, after that very loud and public display in the school yard no less than three minutes ago, who was left to need an electronic update? But, Steve had noticed. Danny looked from the back seat, up to the other side of the roof. Steve was leaning with one hand on the headrest of the driver's seat and the other atop the roof of the car— a warm, small smile adorning his lips.

"Yeah, me too, Gracie, me too." The now former SEAL let his smile grow a bit larger as locked eyes with the blonde man staring at him before saying, "I am glad you came."

Reading between the lines, Danny let out a short, breathy chuckle that was enveloped with a slight smile as he nodded and dropped his weight in the passenger seat.

Steve had taken the gamble, the chips had fallen, the endgame was over and he _**had**_ made the right call. Things would forever come and go in life, but true friendship that consisted of unyielding loyalty?

It was a rare and incredible treasure; one that he had been very lucky to find, and that's really all that matters.

"So glad you came," the tall man whispered to himself as he nodded in affirmation. Following suit, he settled himself in the front seat, started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. After all, Danny had been right… again, as usual; Steve _**was**_ famished.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50****H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H5 0H50**

**Secondary Disclaimer/Background Plot:**

The following story was inspired by the song **Glad You Came** by The Wanted and a piece of plot from **ABC's ****Scandal**. In the show, two of the characters, Huck (Guillermo Diaz) and Captain Jake Ballard (Scott Foley), _**"used to"**_ be a part of a secret Government organization called B6-13; a _**"non-existent"**_ black ops sub-division of the CIA.

In B6-13 once you're in, you're never out. The puppet master (a.k.a **'Command'**) always controls your strings. If you should happen to disobey, you get worked over pretty badly and put into this underground hold type area dubbed **"The Hole";** which is literally a small dark room beneath a metal trap door underneath a very thick concrete floor. Huck spent about 3-6 months down there and Jake, about 6 weeks (he and the President were Navy buddies; when informed of the situation, he pulled some strings and got a very bruised and battered Jake released).

**Muse's Notes:**

-I would like to thank the writers/performers of the band, The Wanted, for a catchy, touching, if not slightly repetitive song. It is one that I enjoy bopping my head along to every once in a while and I like its message.

-I have no idea if this (or even something similar) can be (or is) done within the confines of the Military and its participants. I wouldn't think so and I hope not, but since there are so many secrets that are kept under wraps from both public and enemy eyes I, personally, can neither confirm nor deny.

-The following story is in no way meant to offend anyone who has ties to the Military. I mean absolutely no disrespect, in any way, shape or form. It is simply something that popped into my head after watching **Scandal** a few weeks back and I have been playing around with it ever since; and I thought with a little more creativity, spin and some wild imagination I could turn it into an interesting 5-10 minute read that really tugs at the heart—instead of the puppet— strings.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H5 0H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

-It is with a light and open heart, along with a great deal of anticipation that you, my reader, enjoy my work, just as with all my writing, it really means a great deal to me.

-Reviews and/or constructive criticism are not required here, but are always welcome.

-Flames are not required nor are they welcome; and while I cannot stop you from posting them, I will warn you, I usually don't take them to heart.

Love, Hugs, and Kisses,

Muse : )


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